


On the Topic of Performing Social Relations

by TabbySeraph



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: (bad at condensing attributes under a single name), (both parties are cool with it though), (dunno what Benry has or what else Tommy may have), (though not explicitly acknowledged), Autistic Tommy Coolatta, Awkward Boners, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dubious Consent, HLVRAI, Lust, M/M, Neurodivergent Benry, Neurodiversity, Nonbinary Benry, Obliviousness, Other, Overstimulation, POV Benry, POV Multiple, POV Second Person, POV Tommy Coolatta, showering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26372935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbySeraph/pseuds/TabbySeraph
Summary: just some bros having a chill time. perhaps. one's getting a bit more hot than not.Two chapters, two perspectives
Relationships: Benry & Tommy Coolatta, Benry/Tommy Coolatta, tomrey
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	1. Benry POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a bit of dissociation in this side

"So on the topic of, PUs, or p- parallel universes, those come to be when your position out of bounds can get misinterpreted as a typical location on the map without moving— resetting— while it's actually leaving you in the same place. Like a void filling itself with the echo of another world!" Tommy gestures widely, accentuating the scope of the concept.

Why listen to randos on the internet spoon-feeding you gamer knowledge when there're much better things to do, like listening to a friend ramble about it instead? You could swear half of your gamer-sona is built off of Tommy filling you in on all the obscure facts of practically every game he gets his hands on. Direct feed from his brain to yours, making the information friend-customized as a bonus. Plus it can mean extra time with him if he's gotten particularly into infodumping and forgoes other activities. Good friend-flavored stuff to fill the brain with.

Today, it also helps distract you from the bit of drying mud on your clothes; don't wanna be picking at that, dropping chunks along the floor as you head in for a shower. Focus on the concepts he's weaving around you, the movement of his jaw as he speaks. Which you were maybe paying too much attention to when he warned you about taking Sunkist's leash. Or wherever your mind was at the time. Whatever, you probably just didn't process the stats of the situation before you accepted her leash, only to be instantly unable to keep up with her speed, stumbling along with her before inevitably falling to the damp ground. Looking up to instantly see Sunkist looking back down at you, seeming pleased with herself.

She had trotted off to her bed moments after getting back home, winding down from her run in the park. Hope she gets all the rest she needs after being the one to drag you around like that. Genuinely, actually. Though she's so durable that even being drug around at three times your current size probably wouldn't phase her, so it may not matter.

You're already turning the knob of the bathroom door. Tommy's voice is nice. Sometimes you wish you didn't have gaps in registering what he's saying, but atleast he doesn't seem to mind. And whatever information you do pick up allows you to get more involved in it next time around, checking your memory against his and questioning bits where you feel like you're missing something.

His voice is nice. You're slipping out of your clothes when you feel like you've been punched in the stomach, brain hazily scrambling to figure out what's wrong and reassure it. Zeroing in on the situation. Are you doing something wrong here? You're not supposed to be slipping out of your shirt in the midst of a conversation. But you're fine with this? You're not supposed to be stripping infront of a friend. But you're fine with this? You're standing in the bathroom with Tommy, his focus on the conversation, and you're focusing on getting to shower. This situation isn't _supposed_ to be. What would Tommy think? Your chest squeezes.

Stop that thought. Tommy walked in here himself. Tommy's demeanor hasn't changed. Everything is continuing like usual. You don't need to feign normalcy. Not with Tommy, he's said so. Repeat that. Just be yourself, whatever that is.

Self likes Tommy. Self wants to listen to Tommy. Self is also dirty. Tommy's near the shower already anyways.

Shower time it is, then.

  
Tommy trails off, leaving you to focus on your shower. Perhaps he's enjoying the steady hiss from it, in the same way you're enjoying it pelting your skin. Water's warm, nice and warm, Tommy's nice, water unwinding lingering tension after a nice day out with him. Gold voice slips past your lips, warm, the same striking gold hidden in Tommy's eyes. A faint, unfamiliar _click_ slips through the sound of the shower; did he get a new stim toy? Maybe you'll ask about that later.

For now, you've got a task. Dampening skin, hands through hair, soap, shampoo, soap. Nails against your scalp preemptively. Soap having stripped excess oils from your face as you lift your head to face into the stream of water. Tapping against your skull, water settling into your hair as you duck your head. Front is done for now.

The light pressure of the shower against the backs of your shoulders, sensation seeping into the vaguely-sore muscles, as you face the other end of the shower.

Face an area of silence, an area where Tommy was sitting.

You wipe the water away from your eyes and open them to look down at him, resting against the wall with his pack on his lap, nails lightly skittering across the fabric for a moment before they freeze. Despite the rapidly-fogging glass, you can see that golden glow has sparked in his eyes again, making many small flickers of movement before stilling as well. That means something's up, right? Extra light leaking through? He's not moving like usual, he's stock-still. A swirl of mist passes across your vision as air flows through the shower. He doesn't seem excited. Your hands itch to continue their task. Gold faintly refracts through the steam. A finger twitches, nail scraping against skin.

"you good man? all this steam foggin' your brain up like,"

Nails trace along your skin, a contrast to the steady water. Tommy is sitting infront of you, unmoving.

", like you found a bonfire to rest at? got a li'l world reset goin' on in there?"

Back into gear. Hands scrubbing across your skin, an image of resting at a foggy bonfire faintly lingering in your mind. Tommy is breathing again, faint movement visible through the glass as he shifts, things are moving again.

He blinks, and the glow is gone. Or is it the foggy glass? It's not enough an obstruction for that. Words begin breaking through, pushing back against the hum of the shower.

"— I— you need clean clothes right? I'll go get, those. Seeya!" He's moving, standing. A sharp sound bites through whatever you were thinking of saying. A sharp wedge of awareness in your mind, as hands flex in the edges of your vision, raising to look at them. Flexing, joints that seem too many but not. Those seem like typical human hands. Lines and folds shifting over whatever pieces move within.

They're usable atleast, and you've got a task to do. You won't end up astray if there was already a set path to follow.

  
Almost done, almost dry. But water is unnecessarily sticky, that annoyance that won't even towel off properly, needing some air-drying before clothes are properly comfortable. Damp clothes would be better than that slightly-off skidding along your skin. The hairdrier clicks on, a fresh round of warmth after the cooling air of the bathroom.

You find yourself staring into another pair of eyes, and the face in the mirror grimaces. Look away. An uncomfortable feeling claws its way into the base of your skull. Turning away from the mirror so nothing is there anymore, focusing the hairdrier towards the back of your neck to let warmth worm its way into that sensation's space, breaking it apart and dispelling it. You're alone.

You're alone. Tommy's not here, even though he was before. Even though he said he'd be back. Breaking promises. Heat bites at the back of your neck, mirroring the building heat in your head.

Don't be mean. Your tongue runs over your upper teeth, shifting the hairdrier back around to get the last remnants of wet off, despite the slight resistance in your body. He never really said that. It's not like he just ran out of your life to spite you or anything. People don't just do that. Or atleast Tommy wouldn't do that, even if there is someone who would. He's better than that.

Left while you were showering. The shower door is still open, and you gently swat it closed, not bothering to step over enough to keep hold on it through its motion. Almost done.

  
Done, dry. Suddenly, the door is open, Tommy infront of you. He'd swing the door open quickly enough that it didn't register at first, his hand still on the knob. Other arm cradling a pile of clothes. Clothes? He was bringing you clothes.

"oh shit, clothes, thanks buddy-bro". The hairdrier is still in your hands though. Gotta unplug that, put it back in its spot under the sink. Tommy is back now though, that's good. Why good? Tommy is nice, you like Tommy, you know that.

You lick your lips nervously. Why? This isn't a good mode for thoughts to be stuck in, if they are. Best to stick with reliably good things for now. Like Tommy, a good person standing near you right now.

Very close. You turn around and Tommy is almost right up against you, eyes wide. Before you can even think to ask about the odd tone of the situation, something is shoved against your chest and you grasp onto it as he steps back, too-dull eyes shifting away.

"I'm— I'm gonna, go. Now." And go he does, a harsh flicker of gold before he walks away, leaving behind an empty doorway.

Holding the clothes, you stare at the door. What is this? You're pretty sure your thoughts are speeding ahead, yet nothing is forming, nothing to grasp onto. The look in his eyes. Fingers curling into the fabric in your arms, tongue flicking out across your lips. A different tone. Something's different than usual, no planned route for it, but you don't seem to be worried. Not a problem, just a bonus factor in the scenario.

Nothing to stress over, no need to dig through that not-void in your thoughts to find whatever it is. Leave it to the side for now, until that space in your mind clears, and continue on as usual. Back to Tommy, for now. Dealing with the clothes in your arms, getting dressed—

This shirt? Nice, this shirt. You'd been on a shopping trip with Tommy a bit back, walking together, only to suddenly have his presence drop back, away from your side. His focus now on a shirt rack several steps back, examining one of the choices. Observing the observer, taking in that nice sight of Tommy absorbed in something. Shifting your weight, watching as he touches the fabric with extra purpose.

Not elated, not a favorite, but expressing significant interest. He turns back towards you, continuing forward, and your eyes shift to the shirts. He didn't take anything. But you could later. Turning to follow, eyes back on Tommy while the previous sight still layers over your mind. You wonder if he'd like it on you, there to receive occasional touches like he did right then.

You wonder if he intentionally chose this one to bring to you. You wonder if he still feels the same about the texture, if he knows. You wonder, slipping the shirt over your head, arms through the sleeves. You wonder, and you'll probably get to see, once you can finish getting dressed.

  
Tommy's room. Tommy, lying on his back in his bed, an arm over his eyes, tense. You don't know how you thought you'd find him, but it wasn't this. Seeing Tommy... worn out? distressed? right now lets out an unfocused buzz through you, hands flexing in indecision. To get close, smothering. But do what? Is this disproportionate?

You settle down onto your knees, smaller, closer. Body pressed against the side of the bed, head resting atop as it continues to press forwards, hands gripping over the edge. A thick seam pressing in against the fold of your palm, body almost wishing to vibrate with energy. Clinging close, but not bridging the gap. What are you doing?

You want to be close. You want Tommy close. You want Tommy to feel nice. Not bad. The tension drains from your body, focus slipping into your thoughts. Tommy likes weight, finds it comforting? No sudden touches when he's feeling bad. Tired eyes looking at you. Close.

You've showered, dried off, want to be close. This is typical. Want to do extra for Tommy right now. Typical. Your skin prickles, a shudder almost slipping out. You can do all of this. Just gotta make sure.

"cuddles for benry? pls? i'm all warm 'n clean 'n shit." He reaches out, fingertips brushing across your hair, a new sensation outside your bubble, pulling you back. It would be nice to lean into it.

"You did— moved— you showered fast this time, didn't you? Of course you can get some, extra cuddles." Score. But leaning into the small touch would be more for you, less for him. Unfortunately, you pull back, standing. Weight should be from above.

Swinging a leg over him, you settle in, sitting on his stomach. Tommy's eyes wide as he stares up at you, those tiny flecks of gold like stars amidst dark irises, seeming to glow brighter as you lean forwards. But you're not done yet. But he does look nice like this. As he usually does, but something is different. But that's why you're in this position right now, is it not?

"hey bro, you good? need some smoochies from your pal?" He's moving again, a tiny shift underneath you, a heavy breath let out. A hand brushing across your side as he reaches up and lightly grips your shirt, a tug forwards. Sweet.

It's nice to lie against him, chest to chest, soaking in some extra warmth that was lost after the shower. But this is about him. He lets out a shuddering breath under you, hand pressing firmly into your side. There's a different warmth in the air. You do think your plan worked, so score for you.

Nice, pleased. His other hand finds its way to your hair, gently combing, fingertip-sized points of pressure against your scalp, sensations that add to the feeling. Almost giddy, but different. But that's fine. Buzzing with a different energy.

Converted into motion, a slight hitch in your breath, you run your nose along under Tommy's jaw, focused contact, not smothering. The faint prickle of stubble against your cheek. A shock down your spine as the hand in your hair tightens.

Hands? His hands in your hair, rubbing along your side and letting out sparks of pleasant sensation. Reminded of your hands, shifting so one grips his shoulder, holding on, another resting atop his chest, absorbing the moment.

You shudder slightly, some of the energy rippling through your body escaping. His heart hammering back against yours, mirrored. Mirroring the scattered excitement inside of you. The energy in your head mirroring his tone—

" _Please?_ " A request, Tommy quiet enough that it's almost buried beneath the dull hum of racing thoughts, yet so loud and close it sears into your mind. Resonating, hooking together with parts of the noise. Another dam bursts, disorganized thought condensing into a want to _give_. Finding a way out as the skin of his collar brushes against your jaw.

Physical application, the detailed sensations of a mouth. Licking pleasantly across his skin, up his neck, along his jaw. But it's a single expression, it works, but there's still so much _more_ and you rub your head against his jaw, press your cheek firmly against his clavicle, fingertips digging into skin.

Almost a bite, but you know teeth don't go well with skin. Atleast when you don't know exactly what you're doing with them, or when you want more pressure.

Fingers unclenching, gently rubbing where they had pressed in return. More, palms on fabric, further, hands exploring along his chest, side, his shoulder, arm. Thrill as his breath hitches again, tangible under you, Tommy's there, radiating heat and sound that worms its way into your mind.

He's there, your body heavy despite the energy bursting at the seams. He's there and you see him now, eyes screwed shut and panting openly, beautiful. A similar sensation, calmer. An arm alongside his head where you've slightly propped yourself up, his hand shifting against your side and arm slipping around your waist. Warm.

Eyes lidding further as he pets the back of your head, shortly followed by his own eyes fluttering open. Looking up at you in... awe? There sure is a lot to be felt right now, so that seems about right. Other hand coming up to rest against his cheek, holding onto that. A thrill as he leans into it, eyelids fluttering, a soft breath slipping past his parted lips.

Holy fuck.

A gasp near your ear as you lean in, gently kissing by the corner of his mouth. Fingers pressing into the back of your neck, the briefest brush of his lips against the sides of yours while you pull back slightly. Going right back in, soft lips under yours, hand having found its way up to trace its fingertips across his temple and hair, more.

He gasps and his lips part against yours, strong arms gripping you close to his heated body as warm breath puffs across your cheek. nice. Store that info away for later. Shifting against him, tongue flicking against his bottom lip.

He arches under you and you prop yourself back up again, looking, watching. Tommy in such a state under you, held close, his head turned to press into your palm like he's trying to make it part of himself. Shuddering under you, a moan slipping from his throat. Because of you.

  
Sluggishly trying to process everything around that, you decide to also toss it in the "later" pile. You definitely won't be forgetting that sight anyways. Equally as good is the next sight, Tommy panting, relaxed, bleary-eyed as he looks past you for a few moments before closing his eyes again.

You don't want anything to do with that. Or rather, you kind of want to want something to do with that, following that, but that seems like a lot right now. Body feeling like lead, you lie onto him again, resting against him. Something he likes, and you get something out of it too.

But that doesn't quite placate the energy that had previously been bursting at the seams, overflowing, instead now jagged against you. Not trying to escape, just briars sticking to skin. Nuzzling against Tommy's jaw, a wordless plea.

Rewarded with his hand against you, stroking along head and neck. An action drawing you to it, something to pull you out of the briars. Allowing you to better appreciate how good this moment is, how good Tommy is. His grip against you, seeing him like that, claws in your mind—

Biting at the edges of your thoughts, creeping back in as the unfortunately-brief petting stopped, quietly whining in frustration. But he's already moving again, his hand pressing more firmly as it rubs, nice. And oh, a hand on your back too, pleasantly rubbing through the fabric of your shirt. Wonderful.

A nice way to fall into a pleasant stasis, and it's as if he slowly drains away the excess energy with each motion. You're close, but could be closer, finding your arm and tucking it under his own, unnecessarily held together. But that's the point, the meaning.

Contented as he shifts slightly, a light kiss pressed against your head. Sweet. Pleasantness lingering even as he slows, as one of his hands slips off of you.

Warm as you turn over his gentle hand, thumb tracing his palm. Threading your fingers together, staying together.


	2. Tommy POV

"So on the topic of, PUs, or p- parallel universes, those come to be when your position out of bounds can get misinterpreted as a typical location on the map without moving— resetting— while it's actually leaving you in the same place. Like a void filling itself with the echo of another world!" It's enthralling how much can be done when breaking beyond the normal bounds of a game. Versus simply putting something together out of pre-existing knowledge, which can be nice in its own right. But _breaking down_ something and extracting its hidden potentials? To carefully sort through and gain understanding of something, enough to bend it to your will, beyond its known limitations? Now that's some good shit.

You'll leave the quantum physics aspects of that to other scientists though. They'll figure out how to violate CPT symmetry someday, and you'll be keeping an eye on it, just watching as people hammer at the cracks in their understanding of reality.

For now though, you've been busy spending your time watching others break down game mechanics, showcase the sheer variety in what can be done as glitches and oversights thread deeper into the code. Videos are a great format, pleasant visuals to help keep track of information and well-written explanations to tie all the important bits together in one bundle. Freedom to skip back a few seconds if you couldn't catch a few words the first time around, to skip back further if some relevant information hadn't quite slotted into place yet. And always more to find if you have further questions.

_No need to bug others for information if the information is already within your reach._

It's just easier in most cases, anyways. And you get more time to talk about it to others, going over all the details, details you got to absorb on your own time and can now showcase so many of. Showing off this thing of yours, now a little part of them too. Like you are now.

_As if Benry is actually listening, rather than ignoring it all._

He's walking alongside you, a hand lightly picking at the edge of some dried mud on his shirt. He may be silent, but he's paying attention, or else much of that mud would be peeled of by now. Or maybe he'd be focusing purely on not picking it off if he could. Either way, he nods in acknowledgement at times, nail tapping against the mud in time with your own voice. Mud from being a bit reckless with Sunkist's leash, bowled over before he picked up on the situation. You knew she wouldn't hurt him, but she _is_ in charge of her own walks, and she was bound to have some fun with anyone who hadn't figured that out yet.

As you turned more towards him for that look, a hazy smile settles on his face, a silent reassurance against the words he hasn't heard. You know he's fine with how you are. You know that whenever you bring this topic up again, with him alongside you again, he'll showcase his own bits of what you've shared. You wonder if there's anything on this topic he'd find particularly interesting. How about the obscure ability to make art with coin clones?

That one's a doozy, a lot to explain verbally. But the payoff is worth it. (heh, _pay_ off)

  
You settle down on the ground, sitting with your back against a wall, letting Benry do his thing as you continue your rambling. Sunkist hadn't gotten him all that dirty, but it's still good to get the dirt off. She generally would have stuck around you two a bit longer, but you _had_ been out for quite a while, mostly letting her run free in a leashless park. Not that she ever truly needs a leash, but others don't know that, and she doesn't mind the leash anyways. Paying no need as you unclipped her collar, trotting off into the house to settle in her bed.

She doesn't really need to rest, her energy is almost endless, but you wanted it to be this way. For her. To be able to feel the strain of muscles under skin, the impact of running shuddering through her bones. To be able to lie down and feel that tension unwinding. Life isn't meant for "perfection", not in the way so many people think. What's perfect in life, for living things, is that contrast. Of highs and lows that tie pleasantly together in the end.

 _As if it's that easy. Are you really just going to let her fall_ that _low?_

No. She will not suffer. There are those horrid pitfalls scattered throughout the world, throughout time. You've lived long enough to know that well. But you will be with her, ready to help. Pain is inevitable, but wounds will heal, no matter how long it takes. And you're planning on keeping her life within those pleasant lows that are actually highs in the right eyes, as best you can.

Fuck, there goes your original train of thought. Whatever nice thing it was about games.

_How's that for a low?_

You roll your eyes internally, a thumb tugging at the belt of your fanny pack and scraping against the not-quite-unpleasant braided fabric. At least there's the steady hiss of water on plastic tile.

_Water?_

Oh shit, you weren't paying mind to the implications of the situation, just going along with the typical nature of your conversations even as the situation changed into something new. Sitting around in the bathroom as Benry showered in front of you. You probably should have at least reconsidered your course once he started stripping. Even though you've seen him take off some layers before, familiar motions, taking it _all_ off is new territory. But you're pretty sure he was moving along as usual, not asking you to back out in any way, it's okay. You don't need to worry. You're fine with this if he is.

Glancing up to the back of his head, the buzz of the water settled within your own. Hair dampening further as he faces into the water, the ends slicked down against his skin in swirls.

His back not quite soaked yet, water still beads and trails in rivulets across the skin. You don't realize you've been staring, mouth slightly open as puffs of breath escape, until a hum breaks through the monotony of the water, a warm gold faintly illuminating the other side of the shower. A shade of gold it feels like you've been seeing a bit more often recently, Benry seeming particularly pleased if he finds an object to show you matching that shade. A color giving him a now-fading outline as he stands beneath the falling water, white noise against his skin, the muscles hidden beneath clenching and releasing as he adjusts his weight, asscheeks shifting as he moves his weight from one leg to the other.

Your jaw snaps shut once you realize what you've been doing. Fuck.

_You'd like that, wouldn't you?_

Uh oh.

You hope you didn't let any sounds slip out as your brain short-circuited for a moment, knocked further off-kilter by that sudden train of thought. Okay. Unclench your hands. Breathe. Carefully shift your fanny pack over your crotch to hide any evidence. Maybe you can ignore the Horny Brain situation and it'll go away.

That is, until he turns around. Despite the shower door fogging up, you can see his shoulders roll and his chest shift in turn, water still streaming down his body, pubic hair matted down and showcasing—

"you good man? all this steam foggin' your brain up like, *lip smack*, like you found a bonfire to rest at? got a li'l world reset goin' on in there?" Boy you're glad you shifted your fanny pack when you did. Especially as he continues cleaning, hands running across his bare skin—

_He's going to notice, stop staring._

That's a bit too much going on, time to back out. _Without_ egging on anything in your head right now, don't need any nagging to add onto the pile, thankyouverymuch. What's the next step in this interaction? "Y- you— I— You need clean clothes right? I'll go get, those. Seeya!" You get up as casually as you can muster, feigning leisure as you slip out the bathroom door, flinching as it snaps shut just a bit too hard.

  
Sitting in front of Benry's sparse stacks of clothing, your brain fights itself over the implications. They're just clothes. But currently, you're aware of how they're also something that's almost-always there when you touch another person, part of the interaction of being up against another person. A degree closer to being up against him, despite the clothes being unfilled at the moment.

_You been pining for long enough yet? He'll notice you've been gone for a while._

A slight frown tugs at your face. Focusing instead on rolling your squishy between your palms, mirrored points of pressure circling close to the edges. Your head is clear, but still in the same mode as before, so it would be easier to just wait out his time in the shower. It hasn't been all that long yet anyways. You did promise to bring clean clothes though. Reaching out to the closest piece of clothing, mild surprise makes you still your fingertips against the fabric rather than grabbing it. The texture slightly off from his typical clothes, more pliant as your fingers press down.

You had gotten caught on a similar fabric while out shopping recently, taking a few steps back to touch it again and take in the somewhat unique feel that you barely picked up on in passing. Not quite a fabric that you'd want on you for long periods, but a good bonus of unique sensation in that short moment.

You pick it up, pulling the shirt into your lap, checking out how it folds and smooths down as you run a hand over a piece resting on your leg. This is the same color, isn't it? This fabric folding up inbetween your fingers easier if you grip, sliding across itself if you pinch and roll it between your fingertips.

Then you nearly jump out of your skin, a prickling sensation along your spine as you hear the thump of the shower door.

_What, afraid you're gonna get caught fondling his clothes?_

It was just a bit jarring. Besides, there's nothing odd about just checking out the texture of some fabric. You do try to fold it back in the same fashion as you found it though. Stupid brain, throwing in false associations like that. You definitely aren't rushing as you quickly grab some shorts and underwear to add to the stack, heart hammering unnecessarily as your feet carry you out the room. It doesn't matter, even if it fits in hindsight, even if it brings up the thought of feeling other skin beneath the shirt, not your own leg like earlier.

The doorknob feels a bit cooler than usual under your hand, and the hair dryer behind the door clicks off.

Before you realize it, he's fully nude in front of you. Again. And in full view this time, without the haze of the shower door between you.

"oh shit, clothes, thanks buddy-bro." Whatever you might have been about to say vanishes from your mind as he turns around, completing the full view from front to back, as he puts the hair dryer back in its place. Taking in more of the view after his words startled you back into full awareness. You're fucked.

You're up close to him instantly, achingly close, but you're in a rush anyways. The moment he finishes turning back around, you shove the clothes into his arms and take a step back, averting your eyes, hand tugging at the hem of your shirt. "I'm— I'm gonna, go. Now."

Taking in another eyeful of Benry without intending to, you quickly step out and head to your room. Fuck. You don't wanna deal with that, the whole mess of implications and social standards around, whatever this would be. You're in this mess due to a basal desire, one that doesn't care to consider these things nor let you have the time and clarity to work it out.

At least your bed is soft as you lie down on your back, even though it doesn't feel quite the same right now. Your forearm blocks out much of the light as you rest it over your eyes, conflicting levels of sensation tugging your brain around. You kick your feet, heels running along the blanket and creasing it, only to find out the hard way what that does as your thighs and pants shift.

Hissing slightly, trapped between the call to do so much and the desire to do nothing at all. You're not even really in a mood to deal with any arousal right now. You'd rather be feeling pleasant, as this should be, as it has been, but your body's insistence doesn't really care for that. You try to lie still, trying to breathe steadily. You _could_ deal with this, you could, but at the cost of feeling a different brand of shitty afterwards. You could wait it out, it can't last forever, but the waiting game isn't one you like to play. You could—

_Think of Benry?_

You could try to get yourself in the mood, try to get your senses to align right and settle down. An unpleasant irritation to your overwhelmed brain, but, maybe. It's a lot right now. Just thinking about how stuck you are almost gets tears of frustration welling up. For now, focus on breathing, gripping the sheets with your free hand.

Thankfully, it works. Your head's no longer on fire, a grating mood slipping away into weariness. Body almost sore, you didn't realize how tense you had gotten. You'll figure out how to deal with the problem in a bit. Tense and release, tense and release, methodically going through various muscle groups to help them relax.

The side of the bed dips slightly, more light slipping in under your forearm. It's not too bad. You glance over to your side, seeing only Benry's head and hands as he rests his chin on the bed with his hands grasping the edge.

"cuddles for benry? pls? i'm all warm 'n clean 'n shit." You forgot he likes to spend a bit together after showers. You idly reach out, gently running fingertips over his vaguely-damp hair.

"You did— moved— you showered fast this time, didn't you? Of course you can get some, extra cuddles."

_Are you so sure about that?_

Oh. Yeah, you didn't think that through. You're not so antsy right now, but it might still be a risk. But the comforting weight of cuddles does seem nice right now.

But even if you had thought it through, you wouldn't have expected him to immediately swing a leg over you, sitting on your stomach with thighs pressing against your sides. Thank fuck he was considerate enough to not put his weight onto your fanny pack, he wouldn't feel anything but you're not sure if you could handle that right now, his hips pressing down against your—

"hey bro, you good? need some smoochies from your pal?" He's leaning over you, arms propped on either side, when did he get there—

_When he sat down, you dumbass._

You're glad your brain is scattered for once, you don't think there's enough direction in you to blush out of embarrassment or anything. Your hand reaches out, a slight tug forwards on his shirt as you go to pinch and roll the fabric between your fingers.

Then he's lying against you, and it's like the wind's been knocked out of you but you know it hasn't because these cuddles are common and even Sunkist's weight doesn't wind you—

_Get ahold of yourself._

Breathe, that breath you didn't realize had gotten caught in your chest. The small motions of fabric practically rough against your fingertips, too precise, almost sharp, Wrong Feel amidst the rest of what you're taking in. Your hands try to tense up, fingers pulled back and curling, but you straighten them, the hand that was gripping his shirt quickly pressing back into that spot. Firm pressure across your palm and fingers, against Benry.

He lets out a low tone, gently rumbling against you for a moment. A dull green filters in through your eyelids, some bubbles of sweet voice must be above you now. You guess you closed your eyes against the onslaught of sensations at some point. Or is it to block out outside sensations, to focus more on this scenario?

Your other hand finds its way back to his hair, threading through the slightly-damp curls that trace all across your skin in unison. His nose trails under your jawline, warm breath prickling against your neck, such a small motion that becomes enormous in how it makes you feel.

_Wow, you really didn't think this through, did you?_

His hand gripping your shoulder, his hand brushing across your chest, sensations so different yet both like weights pressing down on you. Him wiggling against you, various indiscernible motions across your skin. Overbearing yet smooth, like a smothering darkness that replaces all the sharp light with itself.

" _Please?_ " You're not sure whether you're more surprised at how small and needy your voice sounds, or at the fact that you spoke at all. You want— You swallow thickly, letting out another shuddering breath. You know, and you don't. Don't overthink it. At least there's not much room to overthink here.

You know Benry likes putting his mouth on things, it can be nice. And your nerves are on fire right now and a jolt shoots down your spine, struggling not to arch your back as that long tongue trails up to your jaw and leaves a tingling cold in its wake. You gasp when he nuzzles back into your neck, caught between relief that he didn't pull back and see your definitely-flushed face, hesitance about how this keeps egging you on, and _please do that more._

And there is more, a blinding darkness coating your senses as his hands run along your body, every touch a weight that sinks down and coils inside you. Feeling your own heart hammering against his palm as he trails it down your chest, sparks along your skin as the hand on your shoulder shifts and presses against your bicep, his thumb running in gentle circles.

Touches that soon disappear, though still heavy in your mind. You slip your arm around his waist, something between holding on and asking for _closer_ , and your other hand loosens to rub idly against the back of his skull. Warm breath above you, a slight dip in the mattress beside your head.

You open your eyes and your breath catches in your throat. He's looking at you so fondly, face flushed. So Close. Entranced. A tingling warmth is threading through the weight in your head, and you can't quite tell whether it gets intensified or soothed by his hand coming up to cup your cheek. Gently, yet still so much.

Then the warmth definitely swells as he leans in. To press his lips near the corner of your mouth. It's still quite a bit, but you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment amidst it all, turning your head to him just a little too late as he pulls back.

Fingertips against the side of your face, your scalp, all the sensations so much. You don't even register him leaning back in, then there are lips against yours, Benry's lips. Everything that's going on catches up to you, only further amplifying what's going on, and you can't help but gasp against him as it all presses down.

Another jolt passes through your body and you reflexively grip, fingers slipping upwards to tangle in Benry's hair and arm squeezing tight around his waist, his body flush against yours. His tongue flicking across your bottom lip. So much, the sensation coiled in your body overflowing, back arching and hips faintly rocking into nothing as you cum.

A moan fights its way out from your throat, almost unnoticed amidst _everything_ , trailing off as the tension seeps away. A quiet-yet-shrill noise slips out of Benry in turn, a vague taste of sweetness lingering as your tongue eventually flicks across your lips.

Letting your eyes slide back open, you hazily register the orbs above you, chartreuse yellow voice becoming clearer as your mind slowly settles down. Closing your eyes again. Thinking feels like too much a task right now.

As the abundant energy seeps from your body, it's almost like it tries to pull pieces of you apart on its way, disquieting emptiness filtering into your previously-packed senses. More like you had been pulled apart amidst everything before, over-exposed to the point it started threading through the cracks, squeezing in and hollowing out its own space in your mind. But now it's gone, not bothering to tug your pieces back together on the way out.

But then Benry lies fully against you again, the comforting weight now stifling that sensation. As if you're being pushed back together with that pressure, comfort slowly nudging things back into place. Feeling as he noses under your jaw, the sensation no longer being so much. But still nice.

You decide it's worth lifting one of your hands from its now-limp state, using it to appreciatively pet Benry. He relaxes into you, letting out a gentle sigh. There are things to do, things to discuss, but it can all be handled later. Clothes can be cleaned, talking isn't really urgent. For now, you're worn out, and this is nice.

Benry cuts through your thoughts, letting out a little whine of discomfort, seeming to be building back up some tension in his body. You didn't even notice your hand had stopped moving, settled down against the back of his neck. Petting again, more deliberately this time, other fingers rubbing in small circles against his cloth-covered lower back. It's pleasant as he unwinds again, slipping one of his arms down to hook under your shoulder in a partial hug.

Briefly pressing your lips to the top of his head, you get a pleased hum in response. It's nice, everything a pleasant background as you slowly drift off.

You just barely notice the pressure against your palm, between your fingers, as everything fades out.


End file.
